


A Gentleman's Guide to Courtship

by Miss_Psychotic, nommedeplume



Series: The Regal Verse [3]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Courtship, Fluff, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Prince!Newt, adorableness, courting, courting gifts, newt is a blushy school girl, royal au, wooing your prince
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2426681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Psychotic/pseuds/Miss_Psychotic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nommedeplume/pseuds/nommedeplume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After learning of Newt's returned attraction, Thomas decided to court his prince properly. Hilarity ensures.</p><p> </p><p>((set after Misadventures of Wooing, Taverns and Ale but before Lessons of the Knight))</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gentleman's Guide to Courtship

**Author's Note:**

> This is set directly after Misadventures of Wooing, Taverns and Ale.

 

 

 

Thomas looked both ways as he crept into the hallway outside of the prince’s rooms. His heart was beating wildly at the thought of being caught sneaking out. 

 

The royal in question was still down at the training ground working on his skills, so it wouldn’t be quite the scandal as if the Prince were there, but it was still highly suspicious. 

 

Thomas grinned to himself as he walked. He’d left the rolled up scroll tied with purple ribbon on the boy’s desk and slipped out unnoticed thanks to the help of one of the chambermaids. 

 

A job well done.

 

He returned to his own rooms for his books, made a pit stop at the kitchens and then hurried to the smaller library to meet the prince for their lessons with the aging Lord Devon.

 

His highness was already seated, listening to his tutor lecture on the politics of one of their neighboring kingdoms when Thomas slid into the seat next to him at the table.  

 

As the son of a Duke, Thomas was one of the only people high ranking enough to share lessons with the Prince.  Their fathers had been friends as young men and thought it would be good for both boys to cultivate a friendship between the two and so they had shared a tutor from the very beginning.

 

“How kind of you to join us Thomas.”  Lord Devon commented as he finished explaining his point .

 

“Perhaps you could attempt punctuality next time.”

 

“Yes My Lord.”  Thomas responded, as he did every time he was reprimanded by the man.  This time he felt a fissure of shame run through him as he caught the disappointed look the prince shot him.

 

The prince had long been trying to get him to take his lessons seriously but he just couldn’t find the motivation until recently.  Newt made him want to try harder and be better.

 

He slid the tart he’d begged from the kitchen, pomegranate, the prince’s favorite, over to the blonde boy.

 

“I tried, but got caught up.”  He whispered, giving the blonde a sly wink.

 

“If you’re quite through wasting valuable time, I’d like to continue my lesson.” The tutor turned on the boys with a raised eyebrow and began lecturing again as Newt and Thomas started taking notes diligently, stealing sidewards glances.

 

Thomas didn’t miss the smile that crossed the Prince’s face as he bit into the tart. The look alone made all of the trouble worth it.

 

***

 

Thomas sat under the shade of one of the many trees the lined the outside of the knights training ring.

 

Prince Newt was sparring with Sir Minho, practicing for the upcoming tournament. 

 

Thomas watched appreciatively as the Prince moved, a slight boy, but with hidden strength and speed.

 

Sir Minho was knocked onto his back, the prince holding his dull blade to the man’s chest.

 

There was a round of applause from the gallery, the ladies of the court, clapping daintily and smiling at their prince.

 

He would be of age in just over a month and the ball celebrating his birthday would surely be the place to secure a betrothal.

 

Thomas rolled his eyes at them, checking the clock of the main tower. Any minute now something good was about to happen.

 

As if on cue, the small page boy, Chuck, with his unruly curly hair came rushing forward towards the training ground. 

 

Newt grinned when he saw what was in the boy’s hands.

 

A basket of pomegranate tarts and a scroll all wrapped together and sealed with a purple ribbon tied in a bow.

 

The blonde took the scroll first, stepping away from the other knights, lest they try to read the note.

 

_My darling Prince,_

_To become a knight you will need to keep your strength._

_Please accept these gifts as a token of support for your training_

_and my desire to see you fit and well._

_I also enjoy the pleased face you make at the taste._

_All my love_

 

It wasn’t signed.

 

Thomas was far too smart for that.

 

He even wrote the letter with his other hand, writing slow and careful to make it legible for the prince.

 

“What does it say?” Sir Alby asked, eyeing the tarts.

 

“That those are specifically for me, to keep my strength.” Newt smiled, fighting hard to not turn and look at Thomas. To give them away.

 

“You’re not going to be able to eat all of those.” Sir Minho commented.

 

Newt gave him a look. “Oh I will.” He promised.

 

“Alright, My Lord if you would like to break for a snack, please do so. Otherwise we can continue with training.” Sir Alby reminded him.

 

“I’ll get Thomas to keep these safe.” Newt commented and headed over to the brunette.

 

“What did you get?” The boy teased.

 

“It seems my secret admirer has gifted me with tarts and a charming note.” Newt grinned, setting the basket down.

 

“Will you guard them for me?” The blonde batted his eyelashes playfully.

 

“With my life.” Thomas promised gravely.

 

Newt laughed and tucked the letter between his chest and shirt, the armour he was wearing would hold it in place.

 

“I don’t trust anyone with these words.” He winked.

 

Thomas tried not to smile like an idiot.

 

The look Chuck gave him, let him know he was failing.

 

 

***

 

When Newt returned to his rooms after training he bathed the sweat and dirt off of his body.

 

He locked the note from Thomas up inside of his dresser, secret from the rest of the world. The words Thomas wrote him were his alone.

 

When the blonde was done, he turned to glance sadly at his desk, he had homework to complete but he wanted to seek out the brunette.

 

A knock at the door startled him.

 

“Enter.”

 

Chuck bowed low as he entered.

 

“Forgive my intrusion, My Lord. I have a message for you.”

 

“Oh?” Newt asked, knowing exactly what it would be.

 

“Who is it from?” He asked.

 

“I do not know. I found it on my desk with a note to give this to you, for your eyes only.” 

 

The scroll was closed with that damn purple ribbon again.

 

Newt took it eagerly.

 

“May I speak freely My Lord?”

 

Newt glanced up from the scroll, nodding permission.

 

“There have been a lot of gifts and notes with purple ribbon on them.” The boy started, shifting nervously on his feet.

 

“And there’s been talk in the court and I... I was wondering, are you courting?” He asked, blushing red.

 

Newt bit his bottom lip.

 

Chuck was a sweet kid and Newt had a soft spot for him as the boy had always served him well and faithfully.

 

“I will tell you a secret.” The Prince started.

 

Chuck nodded, closing his mouth to show he was listening.

 

“I am being courted. But you are not to tell anyone. When I recieve gifts, please pass them on discreetly, this is of utmost importance.” 

 

Chuck nodded.

 

“Of course My Lord. Congratulations My Lord.” He bowed again.

 

Newt gave him a small smile.

 

“You can go.”

 

The curly haired boy nodded, bowed again and left, hastily closing the door behind himself.

 

_My Darling Prince,_

_I just wanted to let you know you are filling my thoughts._

_Be safe and well my sweet prince._

_All my love._

 

Newt snorted a laugh, but his heart fluttered.

 

Thomas was such a sap. The Prince loved it.

 

***

 

Two days after the tarts while training, Newt had received a number of notes at all times of the day.

 

He’d been enjoying hiding the notes and the obvious courting from everyone in the castle, except for Chuck who was now his messenger.

 

“And your studies, Lord Devon has commented you have been doing well, even Thomas has been attending dutifully.” 

 

Newt nodded.

 

“Yes, I’m very much enjoying the unit on battle tactics, Thomas has been helping me with my studies, I believe he’s finally serious about his own too.” 

 

The King nodded.

 

“About time. I worry about his future. His father is a good man and it would be a shame for his son to not live up to that.”

 

“Do you expect me to live up to your legacy?” Newt replied a little more defensive than he’d intended. It was a sensitive topic, Thomas was smart and loyal and just the man his father was.

 

“I expect you to supercede me. To be the greatest ruler this kingdom has ever seen.”

 

Newt blushed.

 

“No pressure.” He teased.

 

The king laughed and put a hand on Newt’s shoulder.

 

“You will be a great leader and a great king. I have no doubts of this.” He spoke kindly.

 

Newt nodded and rested against his door.

 

“I just want to make you proud.”

 

The king smiled and opened his son’s door.

 

“You do- What on earth is this?” 

 

Newt stumbled a few steps looking at his room.

 

The bed, his desk, the floor, his dresser, everything was covered in red and white rose petals, no doubt pilfered from the west gardens.

 

“Oh by the gods.” The blonde muttered trying to fight the smile on his face.

 

“What is this?”

 

“The knights, they play pranks. It’s part of the initiation, it’s bonding. I promise it’s all in good humour.” 

 

The king nodded.

 

“I remember these pranks, but I do not remember them being so... _sweet_.” Newt swallowed thickly.

 

“Times have changed.” He tried to tease.

 

The king eyed his son for a few moments, not entirely believing before nodding.

 

“I’ll send someone to clean this up. Get to your studies.”

 

Newt nodded and closed the door behind his father, sighing loudly.

 

Bloody Tommy.

 

Moving further into the room Newt spied the note Thomas had left behind.

 

Unraveling it the blonde sat on the edge of his bed.

 

_My Darling Prince,_

_I wanted to give you 100 roses, but carrying them through the castle would have given me away._

_The petals were much easier to bring to you._

_None the less, please accept these scentful tokens of my appreciation._

_I promise I will have real flowers for you soon._

_Thinking of you always_

_All my love_

 

Newt sighed happily and flopped backwards onto his bed, holding the note to his chest, blushing madly and trying to contain his happiness.

 

Bloody Tommy.

 

***

 

“And she! She wouldn’t even look at me!” Gally slurred, face twisted in a pout.

 

“The nerve!” Thomas agreed, stumbling a few steps to put his arm around Sir Ben.

 

“Ben. Ben. Benben Beeeen.”

 

“Right here Thomas.”

 

“We should go back to the castle.” 

 

“We should. We have training in the morning.”

 

“With the Prince!” Gally added, like it was an important fact.

 

“Oh! The Prince!” Thomas pretend to swoon.

 

“The fairest maiden in the land!” He teased.

 

The knights laughed.

 

“Still wooing him then are we Thomas?” Minho teased.

 

“My poetry wasn’t enough apparently.” 

 

Ben frowned.

 

“Thomas is wooing The Prince?” 

 

Gally and Minho laughed.

 

“No! Gods no. But last time we drank we were testing our wooing prowess and Thomas tried to woo the Princeling with poetry.” 

 

Ben laughed.

 

“No. The way to a lady’s heart is songs. You gotta sing.” The older boy told them.

 

“We can’t sing for klunk.” Gally pointed out.

 

“Shhhh it’s the thought that matters! We should serenade the prince!” 

 

Minho snorted a laugh.

 

“Yes!” Thomas nodded.

 

“The Prince, lets sing to the prince, where’s the courtyard? We’ll throw pebbles and be all romantic and stuff.” 

 

Ben laughed loudly as they stumbled towards the high palace walls.

 

“How are you single kid? You got this all figured out.” 

 

Thomas shushed him.

 

 

Newt was reading over the letters Thomas had sent him when a tap at his window startled him.

 

It came again a few moments later. A soft tapping on the window.

 

Cautiously the blonde prince opened the glass and stuck his head out.

 

“It’s the prince!” Sir Minho called.

 

The four men in the courtyard cheered happily.

 

Newt sighed. They were drunk.

 

“What are you doing? Go back to your rooms!” He ordered them, trying to sound annoyed.

 

“But Your Majesty, we’ve come to serenade thee!” Thomas teased.

 

“Oh gods.” The blonde groaned.

 

The four boys started singing loudly and horribly out of tune, singing praise to Newt’s apparent bust and blonde locks.

 

The Prince covered his face with his hands, groaning in embarrassment.

 

When the boys finished their song they cheered for each other.

 

“Are you wooed?” Gally asked up at Newt.

 

“No. Dear gods no. You all sound like drowning cats.”

 

The was a collective group of gasps from the boys below the window.

 

“Go on Thomas, bring out the big guns. You got him all doe eyed last time.” Minho nudged the noble boy.

 

Thomas laughed.

 

“I’ve been practising, watch this.” The brunette grinned and cleared his throat. 

 

He looked up to Newt, stomach clenching with nerves while his heart fluttered.

 

“There is no joy or pleasure.” His voice wavered a little before strengthening. He couldn’t hold a tune too well but he tried his best, eyes never leaving Newt’s.

 

“Or any other good that one could feel

or imagine which does not seem to me worthless

whenever your sweetness wants to sweeten my bitterness.”

 

Newt bit his bottom lip, Thomas wasn’t a very good singer but he was trying so hard.

 

Minho and Ben clapped along to the beat. Gally stood there staring.

 

“Therefore I want to praise and adore and fear you, suffer everything, experience everything, endure everything more than I desire any reward. I want to stay faithful.”

 

Thomas finished, smiling up at the blonde.

 

“Aww look he’s speechless.” Ben sighed to Minho.

 

“So romantic!” The Asian boy agreed, pretending to swoon.

 

“Go to bed, all of you.” Newt hissed, utterly mortified at their behaviour, yet he felt a wave of giddiness rising at Thomas’ gesture.

 

“But Newt!” Thomas pouted.

 

“Bed. And I don’t want to hear another peep out of any of you. I’ll see you all at training tomorrow morning.” 

 

With a flourish the blond slammed his window shut, barely able to keep the grin off his face.

 

Thomas had learnt his favourite song and sang it to him, in front of their friends no less.

 

Chewing on his bottom lip, the blonde deliberated for a few moments before grabbing some paper and writing a quick note.

 

He sealed it with wax and headed down to the library where he knew Chuck would be studying his reading.

 

“Chuck. I need you to deliver this to Thomas. It’s important and you must promise not to let anyone but him read it.”

 

Chuck nodded.

 

“Of course, My Lord.” The boy nodded.

 

“And well done on your reading, Lord Devon tells me you are advancing well.”

 

The curly haired boy blushed.

 

“Thank you My Lord.” With a bow he exited the room.

 

_My Courtly Romantic_

_You sound like a dying cat when you sing._

_But I enjoyed watching and listening nonetheless._

_Sleep well_

_N_

 

***

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Thomas jumped half a foot into the air, hand grabbing for his chest to clutch his heart.

 

“Chuck! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” The older boy gasped.

 

“Why are you leaving the Prince’s rooms, he’s not in there.” The prince was in fact at training for the upcoming tournament.

 

Thomas stammered for an answer.

 

The younger boy’s eyes went wide and then quickly moved forward to push open the prince’s door and lo and behold a bouquet of wild flowers and a note with purple ribbon sat on his bed.

 

“I knew it!” The boy grinned.

 

Thomas went pale.

 

“Chuck, you-”

 

“You’re courting the prince.” Chuck whispered, leaning in closer, trying for secrecy.

 

Thomas swallowed and nodded, no point denying it.

 

Chuck grinned.

 

“Congratulations!” He beamed.

 

“Chuck,” Thomas said, voice firm and serious. “You _cannot_ tell _anyone_ about this. _No one_ can know.” 

 

Chuck nodded gravely.

 

“I know. You’re secret is safe with me.” He promised.

 

“Will you continue to deliver my gifts for me when needed?” 

 

Chuck nodded.

 

“You can give them to me directly with instructions instead of just leaving them about my room.”

 

Thomas nodded.

 

“There wasn’t anyone else I could trust with such an important task.” The older boy smiled.

 

Chuck smiled proudly.

 

“I’ll help any way I can.” He told Thomas, gave a small curt bow and left.

 

Thomas let out a sigh of relief and glanced around to make sure no one heard their exchange  before he then headed out to the field to watch Newt train.

 

 

“Again.” Sir Jorge commanded, watching as Sir Alby and Prince Newt came at one another with sword and shield.

 

The dark skinned man moved to the left but the prince blocked before he could land a blow.

 

Thomas sat in his usual spot in the shade of the closest tree and was practically vibrating in his seat with every clash of steel or wood.

 

“Alright, enough.” Sir Jorge nodded.

 

“You are both ready for tomorrow.” He told them, tomorrow was the tournament.

 

Thomas waved as Newt approached.

 

“Some water My Lord?” He teased offering his goblet.

 

Newt drank gratefully.

 

“There’s a tart or two for you around here too.” The brunette teased, voice low and seductive.

 

Newt smirked.

 

“You shouldn’t talk about the court ladies that way.” 

 

Thomas gasped.

 

“A joke? Praise the gods, the prince has jokes!” He laughed, opening his small basket and handing a pomegranate tart to the prince.

 

“Thank you.” 

 

“You’re welcome.” 

 

“I trust you’ve left me another gift in my rooms?” Newt teased, licking the remains of pomegranate from his fingers after shoving the whole tart into his mouth.

 

Thomas grinned and nodded.

 

“Can’t wait.” The prince promised.

 

“My Lord, shall we continue?” Sir Ben called.

 

Newt gave Thomas a small smile and a wink before returning to the field.

 

 

***

 

“Don’t fret My Lord.” Sir Zart spoke kindly as he helped the Prince into his armour for the tournament. He was not to fight today due to an injury sustained on the field the day before. It was a shame, but Sir Zart knew there would be other tournaments to win.

 

“I’m not fretting.” The Prince protested, trying not to pout.

 

The knight smiled kindly.

 

“I was nervous my first tournament too, we all were. It’s normal to feel this way.”

 

Newt hadn’t been able to compete before now as he was not yet of age. He would be turning 17 in a month and so his father had deemed him old enough to fight.

 

“Ready?” The knight asked, glancing around for the prince’s sword.

 

“Oh.” Newt started, as he looked in the small mirror, admiring his impressive figure, but was cut off

 

“Excuse me My Lord,” Chuck called through the tent flap.

 

“Enter.”

 

Chuck entered the room carrying his arms out wide a gift swathed in purple fabric in the crook of his arms.

 

The boy held it out to Newt who unwrapped it carefully, revealing a beautifully crafted sword with a decorative basket hilt, with a single purple ribbon tied into a bow.

 

“So you are being courted?” Sir Zart grinned knowingly.

 

Newt blushed, but there was no reason to deny it.

 

“I am.”

 

“That is a fine sword My Prince, whoever is courting you must care greatly for your safety to be giving you such a generous gift.”

 

The prince smiled warmly.

 

“They do.” He nodded, taking the ribbon from the hilt and tucking it into his breastplate, next to his heart.

 

“A favour from your lady?” The knight winked.

 

Newt blushed.

 

“Thank you Chuck, you may go find a place to watch.” 

 

The boy bowed and headed out.

 

The cheering from outside the tent increased, signaling the King’s entrance, ready to give his opening speech.

 

“Let us join the others.” 

 

Newt nodded and followed, heart in his throat.

 

 

***

 

No one expected Newt to win the tournament. So when he was eliminated three rounds from the final after besting 6 men, the kingdom was impressed with his progress, for a 16 year old boy he was a fine warrior in training and would become a strong king.

 

Sir Alby and Sir Minho were the last two in the tournament, circling each other, calculating before lunging and attacking.

 

Newt paid close attention, learning as he watched.

 

He’d since removed his armour and was waiting for the end of the fighting to do a final bow with his fellow tournament members before taking his leave to bathe and then feast.

 

When Sir Alby dealt a strong blow to Sir Minho’s off arm the boy crumpled and yielded, seeking a healer.

 

Sir Alby aided him in standing, a true knight, forgoing the glory of victory to aid his brother in arms.

 

Newt had never been more proud to call the man friend.

 

When Minho was lead off the field the King announced the tournament winner and then asked for all combatants to form a line so the crowd could praise them all.

 

Newt took a bow, low and deep, a flutter of purple rushing past his head.

 

The ribbon from Thomas, had ended up tucked under his cossack, forgotten amongst the excitement and had now fallen out on the ground, in front of the whole kingdom.

 

The blonde blushed.

 

Whispers broke out amongst the crowd.

 

The king glared at his son, they would be talking about this later. A secret courting meant it had to be someone he did not approve of.

 

“So it’s true?” Sir Ben asked. “You are being courted?”

 

Newt just nodded and kept his eyes anywhere but at Thomas.

 

The brunette in question shifted in his seat, his heart had been in his throat up until Newt had walked safely off the field after being eliminated.

 

The noble boy thought he was going to chew his nails to the quick from the suspense.

 

After Sir Alby’s brilliant display of knightly honour the combatants lined up and Newt bowed, the ribbon Thomas had tied to the sword he’d commissioned fluttering to the ground.

 

“I knew it!” One of the court ladies behind him whispered to her friend.

 

“He is being courted! I bet you it’s Lady Brenda, she’s been eyeing him for months.”

 

Thomas felt a wave of jealousy cover him but let it pass.

 

Newt knew who was courting him and the prince was reciprocating. 

 

That was all that mattered.

 

Biting his bottom lip, Thomas started thinking of his next gift, something more personal and intimate. 

 

It was time to step things up, he needed to completely and utterly woo his prince.

 

 

 

End.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The Song Thomas sings is this:
> 
> Guillaume de Machaut: “Foy porter” (14th century) 
> 
> Please don't forget to leave a comment, we love hearing your feedback!
> 
> You can also join us over on tumbr at misspsychoticfics.tumblr.com


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